


Distraction

by virgilsjourney (jenna221b)



Series: Learning & Loving [6]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Roman is kind and soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 15:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/virgilsjourney
Summary: Continues from 'Spinning.'----------------------------“I could kiss ... ?”“I could kiss myself.”= unlikely. Also impossible??“I could kiss Logan.”“I could kiss Patton.”^??? I mean... possible but... but. He said my name before right? Virgil, I could kiss... he was talking to me right? RIGHT? So. so maybe it’s... maybe...“I could kiss you.”^I mean, that sounds... correct? You as inme.So... hewasgoing to say he could kiss me? He could have kissed me. Do I want that- yes. Yes. That was quick. shitfuckshit





	Distraction

“I could kiss-”

“I could kiss-”

“I could kiss-”

There are only a few possible ways that sentence could end. Virgil knows this. So, as his legs nearly buckle as he sits on the couch, and Logan and Patton go to playfully bicker over the portions of pasta, Virgil tries to list all scenarios. He scrabbles for a piece of paper and luckily finds a notebook and pen just within reach. He takes a breath and tries to think like Logan. Grounded. Calm. (...ish). What is  _logical?_  He starts writing, thoughts spooling out faster than his handwriting can keep up with: 

_“I could kiss ... ?”  
_

_“I could kiss myself.”= unlikely. Also impossible??  
_

_“I could kiss Logan.”  
_

_“I could kiss Patton.”  
_

_^??? I mean... possible but... but. He said my name before right? Virgil, I could kiss... he was talking to me right? RIGHT? So. so maybe it’s... maybe..._

_“I could kiss you.”  
_

_^I mean, that sounds... correct? You as in **me.**  So... he  **was**  going to say he could kiss me? He could have kissed me. Do I want that- yes. Yes. That was quick. shitfuckshit_

“What on  _earth_ are you doing?”

Virgil jumps, sending a scrawl of ink flying across the page. He looks up to meet Logan’s puzzled gaze.

“That’s my notebook,” he says- not sounding annoyed, just a statement of fact.

 _Oh, **double**  shit._ 

“Now, Logan, leave him be,” Patton says with a distinct smile in his voice, and Virgil jumps again because, oh God, when did Patton sit down again? Had he seen him writing? No, no, no-

Virgil tears the page out, and leaps to his feet. 

“I have to- yeah,” he flounders, not even caring about Patton and Logan’s somehow knowing look to each other, as he hurries out to the corridor. He knocks on Roman’s door. 

Roman opens it immediately, and they both talk over each other: “Listen.”

Virgil doesn’t even get out the words, “Uh, well, you first,” before Roman’s babbling over him: 

“Listen, Virgil, I- I was wondering- thinking- wondering... l-like, auditions are over but- but this doesn’t have to just  _stop_ , right? I was thinking, do you want to just- like, hang out? Study? I-sometimes, I have to play the keyboard, though, would that annoy you? I’d keep it quiet! If it would annoy you, obviously, you don’t have to-”

_“Roman.”_

Roman finally stops, sounding slightly out of breath.

Virgil smiles at him, and hopes it’s reassuring. “I’d like that,” he says.

Roman breathes out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, okay.” Roman nods, grinning in an oddly shy way. “Yeah. I-yeah. See you later.”

So, he _is_ nervous, Virgil realises, as he shuts the door- and not just about performing. He’s nervous… around  _me?_  

This is the funny thing, what with being around Roman, he muses. It makes him... confident. Hopeful. Makes him think well, to hell with it, why not? He  _could_ like me, why wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately, all that new-found confidence goes to shit as the semester advances. It’s not a new feeling, but with each year the pressure mounts and- yeah, actually, this is the worst. Usually, he’ll just get more and more withdrawn and hope no-one notices, and go to his room to... well, panic.  _Oh God this essay is so shit, the worst thing ever written, I’m going to fail, they’ll kick me out, I’ll never see Roman or Logan or Patton again and it’s Too Much Too-Much TooMuch-_

It’s not that the others have never noticed. Far from it- each term, he suspects Logan has a word with his professors, because each one emails to grant him an extension, if necessary. And then there’s Patton, who insists that he make all of Virgil’s meals.

Virgil doesn’t want to think about whether Roman notices. The embarrassment is too much, along with the dwindling hope of...  _anything_  happening between them, who would want this much of a disaster... 

The day of Roman’s dress rehearsal, Virgil feels even worse- he knows it’s a bad say as soon as he wakes up with a headache. It only grows throughout the day. He can’t focus in class, his professors’ voices all morphing into a harsh drone as the pain in his head builds. He walks home, getting soaked in torrential rain, and has to convince Patton not to take his temperature as soon as he opens the kitchen door.

“Just leave it, Patton, I’m  _fine_ ,” he says, then immediately feels all the worse for snapping at him.

He has a shower and at least doesn’t feel cold anymore. And, while his head still thumps away and his eyes start to protest even at the gentle fairy lights in Roman’s room, he goes there anyway. Sure, it’d be far better if Roman was here but he needs something... familiar. Safe. He sits on Roman’s bed, and tries to read some of his psychology textbooks, but the words on the page keep on blurring into one another, and his head  _hurts_ , and every time he rubs at his eyes he can feel them getting heavier and... his whole body is slumping against the pillows.... From somewhere far away, he can hear his phone buzz repeatedly, but he can’t find the energy to even... look...

He wakes slowly to the faint sound of typing on a keyboard. He’s disorientated at first, eyes finally cooperating by staying open, and... since when is  _his_  room lit with golden fairy lights? The question fades away as Virgil registers a warmth surrounding him, pleasant and comforting. He looks down to see that Roman’s jacket has been draped over him. He traces the red stripe on the white sleeve absentmindedly, until the background noise of typing stops.

Virgil’s vision focuses, and he sees Roman on the floor, leaning against the bed, laptop propped up on his knees.

Oh, God. He remembers, now. He must’ve fallen asleep. How  _mortifying._

“Oops. I’m... sorry,” is all Virgil can manage.

But Roman doesn’t look put out at all. On the contrary, he turns and gives Virgil the softest smile.

“Don’t be, you must’ve been exhausted.”

“I... um. Well, yeah, I suppose...”

God, how he hates this, why is he like _this_ , Roman is bound to get bored and leave... but, Virgil has to admit, right now Roman doesn’t look bored at all. He’s looking at him, with an air of hesitancy, as if trying to find the right words.

“I bet you slept through dinner?” he asks gently. 

Virgil can’t bring himself to reply. Roman nods.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll be right back.”

Roman leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him. Virgil sits up, remembering hearing his phone vibrate before he fell asleep. He unlocks the screen and-oh.

_[2 missed calls from: Roman]_

_Hey, Patton called to say you weren’t feeling well? Take it easy okay?_

_Okay I take it you don’t want to talk rn that’s fine but just know we’re all here for you <3_

_btw texting and singing dancing through life at the same time is really hard lmao_

_(oops got told off)_

_(worth it)_

_I’ll be home soon, hope you’re feeling a bit better <3_

Virgil is hit with the thought of Roman, who knows full well how important a dress rehearsal is, taking the time to call him. Text him. Worry about him. An image of Roman texting behind his back while he sings comes to mind, and Virgil chokes out a laugh, that quickly becomes something else as there’s a sudden heat in his eyes. He clamps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. The first sob is already out, and he can feel himself shaking.

The door opens. There’s the thunk of something being set down onto the bedside cabinet, and Virgil cringes, trying to hide the obvious tears and-

Roman is standing in front of him, looking stricken.

“Oh. Oh, Virgil, hey now, it’s...” His eyes are wide in sympathy. “Virgil. Can- can I hug you?”

Virgil can’t help it. He half laughs, half cries, because how did he get so lucky to have someone be so _kind_.

“Of- of course you can.”

Roman’s arms are around him near instantly, as he crawls onto the bed next to him. Virgil breathes out, taking comfort in the sureness of Roman’s hold, the steadiness of his heartbeat. 

“So,” Roman murmurs. Virgil can feel his breath just skimming the top of his hair. “Here’s what I think we should do. Let me know how it sounds?”

He nods against Roman’s chest.

“I emailed your essay to Logan, so don’t even think about trying to work tonight. I think... I  _know_  you’re too hard on yourself.” Roman lets go, leaning back. “I’m guessing you want a distraction. Just for tonight?”

Virgil feels something being pushed into his hands, so he looks up. It’s a plate of toast, buttered to within an inch of its life- typical Roman. He finally smiles, as he notices Roman is also holding out a steaming mug. Virgil doesn’t have to look to know it’s chamomile tea. 

He nibbles on the toast. “That sounds... good.”

So, distract him Roman does. He fills the room with epic tales of the dress rehearsal antics, and Virgil hangs onto every word. Well, he tries to. It’s probably a combination of the toast and the tea, and just the sheer fact that he still feels so  _exhausted_  but... to him, that doesn’t excuse him drifting off while Roman is still  _talking_ , damn it. 

He feels Roman move next to him. Then, a hand, gently pushing his shoulder, guiding him to lie back down on the bed.

“Okay, rest some more now.”

Virgil tries to open his eyes. “’M listening, still.” He just about manages to catch a glimpse of Roman, who’s looking at him intently, smiling and shaking his head. Then, his eyes annoyingly slip closed again.

“I know you are,” Roman says. “But you’re also falling asleep.”

Virgil’s head turns and he feels a pillow underneath. When had he actually lay down? He’s... drifting... but there’s something. Something he thinks is important, but what...

“Roman...” he gets out, before a yawn wins.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

And, he remembers that, those words from so long ago... And now, here we are, Virgil thinks. Helping again. Helping each other.

Distantly, he realises Roman is pulling back the covers, tucking him in.  _I love you_ , he thinks, and it’s so sudden and so clear, even in his sleep-addled mind, and it doesn’t scare him at all.

“Wouldn’t have minded,” he whispers.

A hushed laugh. “Virgil. Can you listen to your body for like half a second, please?  _Sleep_.”

“Wouldn’t have, Roman. If you’d...said. It. Would be... nice.”

He’s so tired. Too tired to care if he’s making sense. From far away, he hears a shaky intake of breath. 

“Okay,” Roman whispers, and then Virgil feels a fleeting sensation: lips brushing against his temple, just as sleep washes over him.


End file.
